Third Eye Problems

J. K. Giih

The western culture is saturated with images, and the following is one of them. One warm summer day as the protagonist of this story awoke from a restless sleep he was terrified to find not some but all of his precious kundalini drained down his spine and concentrated to the rather modest shaft of his cock.

»Fuuuuuuck», he silently exclaimed, for all of his former aspirations of hermetic illumination had suddenly been replaced with a bestial desire to copulate with anything that moves.

This desire, as despicable as it may be, can easily be explained by the most basic of theories of modern psychology, for the day before the unfortunate event our protagonist had taken part in a most unusual incident, which, for the convenience of the reader, shall be described herein.

It took a while for him to put on his trousers when the doorbell rang, and by the time he had finished contemplating whether he would actually open the door or not an impatient salesman or Jehovah’s witness would already have been gone, but as it turned out the person behind the door was a girl with a particularly nice butt he had just passed at the crosswalk on the way home who had reminded him of the girl with pretty hands he had loved in an erotic way ever since his student days but who didn’t love him back because she already had a boyfriend and was a better poet than he was.

She asked if she could use the phone and it took a while for him to decide whether he would allow that because he had a severe social anxiety and didn’t usually let people in but she looked like she was on drugs so maybe she didn’t even notice it took about ten or twenty seconds for him to go and get the phone because some drugs can seriously fuck with your perception of time and space. She was wearing black jeans and some kind of a soft woolly jacket and all he wanted to do was to invite her in and strip her naked and ram his bulging manhood up her luscious ass, but, having severe social anxiety, he opted for calmly waiting at the door while she laid out her wrinkly address book on the cold stone floor between his apartment and the elevator, conveniently blocking the way for any residents potentially attempting to access their particular apartment.

I wanted to ask her whom she was going to call, but considered it best not to disturb her. Either way it soon became evident that she either wasn’t sure whom to call or could not find the number she was looking for in her address book. I found it interesting that in this age of technology she would carry an address book as opposed to carrying a phone. Perhaps she knew that cell phones are tracking devices and therefore didn’t want to have one with her, not even a used one with a prepaid plan that the government wouldn’t easily be able to connect to her identity unless they saw her using it on a surveillance camera. Most surveillance cameras nowadays are directly connected to an international network as opposed to a local tape that would regularly be erased by a security guard. I wanted her vagina more than ever.

In fact I wouldn’t have minded her taking off her jeans and urinating in my hungry mouth, but then she realized that the number she was looking for probably wasn’t in her address book so she gave me a number off the top of her head, but as I punched it in and handed her the phone nobody would pick up so that was that. Then a man appeared behind her smoking a cigarette even though it’s against the rules to smoke cigarettes indoors but because they’re trying to make it illegal to smoke on the balcony people will end up smoking indoors despite the fact that they’re technically going to have to pay for repainting the walls or applying new wallpapers or whatever to get rid of the cigarette smell when they move out but when you don’t have any money it doesn’t matter what you’re going to have to pay for because when you don’t have any money either the government will pay for you or nobody will pay so fuck it, which is why it’s best to not have any money or to have it in cash hidden from the government. Either way when the man appeared she said she would could probably borrow a phone from the man if she needed to, so I assumed she must have known the man, which was a disappointment because I could easily tell just by looking at the man that he wasn’t good enough for her.

Fuck her.

THE END.